


Mini-fridges Don't Solve Stupid Art Teachers

by promiscuouslyCaliginous



Series: ALICE IN WONDERLAND AU [4]
Category: Alice in Wonderland - Fandom
Genre: Anxiety/Minor mentions of Narcolepsy, Cas is tiny, Desmond is just confused, F/F, F/M, Im tired, It's a Trash college AU, M/M, Mini-fridge, This is trash, based of a davekat fic, im trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 10:34:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14162946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/promiscuouslyCaliginous/pseuds/promiscuouslyCaliginous
Summary: When Cassiel is stressed out over his college classes, he always finds himself in Desmond's dorm room to reap the comfort of his boyfriend. But when he comes over and said boyfriend isn't back from his own class, he must settle for the second-best.Or, in which Desmond comes back from class to find his groceries scattered all over the floor and his boyfriend's bag on his bed.





	Mini-fridges Don't Solve Stupid Art Teachers

Desmond really did love his drama class. He enjoyed the way he could wind his voice through the words he was saying, and particularly enjoyed when Queenie decided to pop in to join the class for a scene or two. But after a full week of the same scene over and over, of course he would try to find some other form of entertainment. 

Any- other form of entertainment. 

As he pulled out his phone- no one cared, the professor just kept reading the same lines again- he quickly messaged the only other person he knew wouldn't be busy. Or rather, he knew the other would be in class but absolutely not paying attention at all. He was probably doodling all over his notebook and half-asleep, the poor baby. So to text him would be almost a service! He quickly typed out a text, an exclamation of his own boredom, sending without another moment of hesitation. 

After ten minutes without a response, one could tell he was confused, to say the least. Cassiel was always borderline obsessed with being on top of things, especially answering his messages. After all, he communicated through messaging more than he did actual verbal speaking.  


(Cassiel had tried to explain to the man that that was solely because he was often a key informant to many in their friend group, to no avail.)

After twenty, he was outright worried.  
But he couldn't just leave class. He was probably over-thinking it. Cassiel may have it on silent, or have had it taken by the professor, or was choosing his own time over the incessant questioning for once, or maybe asleep as he so often wasn't supposed to be. So he let it be, despite the worry aching in him. His kitty would be fine. He would call him after class, and if he didn't answer then Desmond would simply pop by his dorm to see what was the matter. 

The class period passed uneventfully, both to the relief and disdain of the man. The very second the professor dismissed the class he was out of his seat in the auditorium and out the door, phone in hand and already dialing. 

"Hey, it's Cassiel, and clearly I wasn't able to get to the phone. If it's Alice or Hugh or Em, you should know just to text me. Call back later and I'll respond if I give a shit." Rang out after six rings. Good god, Cas. Desmond would have to remind him to re-do his messaging system when he saw him again.  


Speaking of which, he didn't answer. Desmond was starting to become ansty at the predicament, and immediately made way for his dorm room. 

He called three more times on the short walk to the dorm, opting to not leave a message each time. Waste of time, if he wasn't picking up then he was either having a breakdown or was absolutely pissed or just couldn't.  
The thought scared him worse than if he was just ignoring his phone. 

He opened the door quickly and with a bang, the door smacking back against the wall behind it hard enough to startle poor Hugh right out of his chair and onto the floor beside it.  


"Jesus shit, Des. What's got a bee in your bonnet?" No Cas. Cassiel was not in his room. Desmond did a quick scan of Cassiel's neat(er) side of the room, making sure. "It's Cassiel. Where is he? Did he come back from class?" Desmond asked, eyes turned to Hugh. The boy had thankfully returned to his seat, and shrugged.  
"He stopped by about a half-hour ago. Said he was going to your place?"

Of course, that's where he always went. Desmond left without another word, heading down the hall and towards the elevator's with silent footsteps.  
Exactly seventy-seven footfalls later he arrived at his own dorm room, which thankfully went unshared. Part of the reason why Cassiel came over to his place more often than he came over to the other's. That, and when Hugh scrunchied him it would be easier.  
The thought would have made Desmond giggle if he wasn't looking for his missing boyfriend. 

He unlocked the door and let himself in, stopping immediately in the doorway.  
Strewn all across the floor were his groceries for the week. An entire box of teabags had been thrown onto his bed, the coffee already on the counter next to the pot he kept solely for said boyfriend. On the bed, near the box of mint tea, was Cassiel's black bookbag, covered in neon paint splotches and- hanging off the bottom- a pink and purple feathered boa that Hugh had so graciously gifted him in highschool. He kept it as a joke, a reminder of the code names the guidance counselor had given them. 

Desmond sighed and picked up the contents of his fridge, gathering them in his arms and setting it all on his bed. It must be a freak-out, rather than just an ignore-everyone day. It wasn't common, but Desmond had seen enough of his mini-freaks to know. 

From behind him there was a quiet creaking sound, sending the man reeling around to find the door too his mini-fridge slightly ajar. He sighed once more, hoping the boy hadn't permanently damaged the fridge. 

He wandered open and opened the door to the fridge, gaping quietly at what he found.  
There was Cassiel, curled into a ball. In his mini-fridge, clutching his phone with silent tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Oh, baby." Desmond mumbled, crouching down to be about level with him. The boy turned his head to look silently at Desmond, eyes red-rimmed and weary-worn. He averted his gaze down to his phone and typed something into the notes with shaking fingers.

[ i hate art class ] Is all it said, Cassiel not giving any other explanation as to why he was perched in the fridge- of all places.  
"What is it, this time?" Desmond asked, careful to keep his voice low and calm. 

Another typing session, this one faster this time with Cassiel looking almost furious as he typed, a quiet sob leaving him. 

[ She kicked me out because she didn't believe I was ambidextrous. ]  
"You're kidding."

The boy shook his head and turned his body, his legs coming partially out of the fridge. He held his arms out and gave Desmond a pathetic-sounding whine, his eyes wide and pleading. 

Again, the man sighed, even as he scooped the boy out of the fridge and up into his arms. Immediately, Cassiel clung to him, wrapping his legs around his waist and letting himself be carried over to the bed. Desmond sat then, resting the poor boy in his lap as he gently rubbed his back. 

"It's alright, love. You'll show her tomorrow."


End file.
